The Night that the Truth was Revealed
by BarkingatJim
Summary: This story takes place after the episode "The Night that Terror Stalked the Town" but it actually provides an alternative explanation of what happened once James West left the restaurant with Marie at the beginning. Please suspend your disbelief when it comes to places and other technical stuff. I HAVE REPLACED CHAPTER 6. I GOT TWO EPISODES CONFUSED. SORRY
1. Chapter 1

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 1

 **Truth Will Out**

(The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare)

 _On board the Wanderer_

Artemus Gordon boarded the Wanderer, entered the parlour car and looked across at his friend and partner in the Secret Service, James West who was at that moment sitting at a table, peering at the inside of the barrel of his gun, making sure it was thoroughly cleaned. On the table in front of him were various cloths and brushes and a bottle of oil. Artie sighed. How many times had he told Jim to clean his guns in the galley or in his own quarters? He didn't say anything though. Only a few weeks ago he had faced the possibility of losing his partner at the hands of Miguelito Loveless and he was still in the stage of just being grateful to see him alive and well, no matter what he was doing.

His mind went back to the day he'd been informed that West hadn't been seen for two weeks, plenty of time for him to get into serious trouble, followed immediately by Janus turning up at the Wanderer, pretending to be the missing man. Artie still wasn't sure whether he would have spotted the imposture if it hadn't been for a couple of slip-ups Janus had made. Firstly he claimed he had been on a confidential Government assignment when Artie had already been informed by Washington that he was officially missing. Gordon himself, noticing the discrepancy, had laid his own trap by mentioning his Aunt Maude. West's reaction had proved that he had no idea she was a totally fictitious person. That proved of course that he was not James West at all. Thank goodness Artie had followed him and been there to aid his friend in his escape from the clutches of Loveless and his cohorts. It was comforting to know that Loveless and Voltaire were currently safely behind bars.

The incident had led him to wonder what would have happened if there had been no way to tell his partner from Janus; if Marie had not been able to recognise him from his kiss. For once his partner's inability to keep his hands off a beautiful woman had been useful. Artie had been mulling over in his mind for some time the importance of there being a way to discover if a man, or woman for that matter, was telling the truth. It would certainly be a boon in their line of work. The recent incident had only strengthened his belief and when he had mentioned this to the President he had been wholly in support of the idea.

Ever since then Artie had been working on a mix of chemicals to temporarily disable the brain's ability to formulate new thoughts that might be useful in this respect. It would also make the subject feel so relaxed that the idea of subterfuge would be the last thing on their mind. He had been granted permission by the head of the Federal Bureau of Prisons to try out the drug on prisoners awaiting execution and he had put together two groups in each prison, one made up of men who were persistent in claiming their innocence and another group who had admitted their guilt and who would act as a control. In fact he had just returned from the local prison where he had been testing his drug on the most recent batch of convicts.

"Well, how did it go?" Jim asked, putting the gun down and looking up at his partner.

"Very well," Artie replied, "and thankfully, I didn't detect anyone who was wrongly convicted. I admit I was worried that I would find an innocent man among them. I'm not sure the Government would accept my drug as definitive proof of a miscarriage of justice."

"I'm very pleased for you, Artie," Jim said. "What happens next?"

"I'm not quite sure. I haven't had a chance to use it on a subject outside of a condemned cell yet. I've only had permission to use it on them because the men were sentenced to die anyway. But now that I have proved it's safe I'm hoping to be allowed to use it on a wider range of people in the near future. It would be great if we could use it in the field."

"Why don't you try it on me?" Jim suggested.

"On you?" Artie asked, taken aback.

"Yes, me; you said it was perfectly safe didn't you?"

"Yes, but…"

"Come on, Artie, what's the problem?"

"I guess I'm just amazed that you would trust me to put you in a position where I could make you reveal the most personal things about yourself," Artie admitted.

"Yeah, but I can trust you, can't I?"

"Yes of course," Artie hurried to assure his friend.

"Anyway, I don't have any secrets from you." Jim smiled at him.

"Okay then. When do you want to do it?"

"How about after dinner this evening? I was hoping you would be back in time to prepare something. You can look on it as payment for my participation in your experiment."

"Sure," Artie replied. "We'll eat in about an hour. I'm going to prepare something special."

"The condemned man ate a hearty meal," Jim joked.

"That's not funny," Artie said, heading for the galley.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _The Wanderer – an hour and a half later_

Jim was lying quite comfortably on the bed in his sleeping quarters while Artie checked his blood pressure.

"That seems fine," he said, removing the cuff and putting his apparatus away. "Even though I know how fit you are I have to make sure everything is in order if I'm to be able to use the information I collect," Artie said.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Jim assured him. "You're in charge here. I just hope that what we're doing helps your case with the Government."

"I hope so too. At least it's a start. Now please roll up your sleeve, Jim."

Jim did as he was told and offered up the inside of his arm for the necessary injection. Artie flicked at a vein until he had something to aim at.

"The injection will hurt just a little bit," Artie said. "You won't be aware of what's happening once the drug takes effect."

"It's okay, Artie, you already explained everything. Stop stalling!"

"Are you sure you want me to do this?"

"Yes, I do." Jim smiled at him. "Don't worry, Artie. I trust you."

"Okay, Jim. Here goes then."

Artie pressed the needle into his partner's flesh and Jim closed his eyes. Artie then began counting down to the point where he expected the drug to take effect and, after a while, lifted one of Jim's eyelids. Jim stared back at him with a trance-like gaze. It was obvious that Jim was not in a position to think for himself and Artie knew that he would now be able to get past any mental defences his partner possessed. He could find out anything he wanted to. But Jim trusted him and that meant a lot to Artie. He wasn't about to betray that trust. He started with the question he always used to test the effect of the drug.

"What's your name?"

The response was almost immediate. "Gabriel Prescott."

Artie stepped back as if he had been bitten and then approached close to his subject. It seemed impossible but Jim must be faking his response to the drug in some way. He checked his breathing and his muscular responses. No, he was definitely under.

"What is your name?" Artie asked once again.

The answer was the same.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 2

" **You can't Handle the Truth"**

(A Few Good Men (1992 film)

 _On board the Wanderer a few minutes later_

Artie took a step back and sat down with a thump on the chair that he had placed there earlier.

"What the…!" he exclaimed, still not willing to believe this wasn't a joke on his friend's part. He leaned over and checked his pulse. It was a little slow but within normal parameters for someone who had been given the drug. Before he could sop himself he had slapped Jim's face - hard. Jim moaned slightly but didn't respond and Artie was left looking at the red mark left by the imprint of his fingers on the other man's face.

Artie stood up and paced up and down the area by the side of the bed thinking furiously. His face turned ashen as it suddenly hit him that the man in front of him must be Janus and that Prescott was probably his real name. That meant that Loveless had succeeded in his plan after all. He froze when he realised that James West was therefore dead and buried in the grave of a criminal. Then he smiled with relief. Of course, it couldn't be Janus. If it was then he would never have volunteered to let Artie try out the drug on him. He sat down again with relief. Then he instantly stood up again. Two things had occurred to him. Firstly, if the man in front of him truly wasn't his partner then how and when had he been substituted? Secondly, it was his duty to tell Colonel Richmond what he had found out. And betray his partner? But he wasn't his partner – was he? Could he trust the drug to produce the truth? He grabbed hold of the other man's face and moved it this way and that, looking for some sign that he was wearing a mask. There was none. The face was James West's and even in repose it wore the slight smile which Artie had become accustomed to see on it. He ran his fingers through his own hair in disbelief. Then he came to a decision. He would question his subject some more and find out if there were any other discrepancies in his answers. Yes, that was what he would do. He had to make sure.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Washington DC – The Office of the President_

"And you're absolutely sure?" the President asked.

Artie looked back at him with hollow eyes. "I only know what he told me under the influence of the drug," he said. "I wish to God I'd never invented it," he added.

"So there's no chance you could be mistaken?" Grant persisted.

Artie shook his head.

"What I want to know," Colonel Richmond said, "Is how long this man has been pretending to be West and where the real James West is now, that's if he's still alive."

"But he wasn't pretending," Artie said. "That's the point. Under the influence of my truth drug he answered every question as if he were this man Gabriel Prescott but when he came out from under its influence he was convinced he actually was James West and he was able to answer any question about Jim correctly. There appears to be a complete divorce between his conscious and unconscious mind."

"So if it weren't for this drug of yours he could have carried on being James West for the rest of his life and no one would have been the wiser," Grant stated. "That's a frightening thought."

"Yes, and I've lived with that thought for several days now," Artie pointed out.

Grant turned to the Colonel. "Where is this Prescott fellow now?" he asked.

"Mr Gordon brought him to Washington under false pretences, giving him no clue that he suspected him. When the Wanderer arrived I had him escorted to the Federal prison. He's there waiting to be questioned. Though, if he thinks he really is James West I don't know what good that will do."

The President sighed. "This is a pretty pickle," he said. He turned to Artie. "Artemus, I'm leaving it to you to get to the bottom of this. You may call on whatever resources you need. Just find out what happened to James West!"

"Yes Sir. The first thing I intend to do is have a word with the only man I know who has ever made a duplicate of Jim, Dr Miguelito Loveless."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," Colonel Richmond told him.

"Why's that?" Artie asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Because I've had word that he escaped from prison two days ago, with Voltaire, and we have no idea where they've gone."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _A Small Town Somewhere in Colorado_

The tall man was forced to bend almost double as he climbed out of the stagecoach and then straightened out before turning to help his small companion down. They had been travelling for two days and had finally reached their destination, a small town not too far from the ghost town where he had pretended to hold James West captive a few weeks ago. Miguelito Loveless rubbed his hands together with uncontrollable glee. "You see, Voltaire, I told you they wouldn't keep us locked up for long. Now we have to get hold of Mr West and have some fun with him. What do you say?"

Voltaire nodded, grinning. He always liked to do what the Doctor suggested. He was someone who made things happen and he always treated him well. The Doctor had been genuinely upset when James West had punched Voltaire in the 'tummy', as the Doctor put it. The Doctor had played a trick on Marie but he had taken Voltaire into his confidence. That was how much he trusted him. That made Voltaire happy. It was a shame that Janus had had to die but that had been part of the Doctor's plan and Janus hadn't been very nice to Voltaire when the Doctor wasn't looking so he didn't mind that he wasn't around anymore. Marie had been pretty but she had sided with Mr West against the Doctor. Of course the Doctor hadn't been fooled at all. He had known which of the men was Janus all along.

"Come along, Voltaire," Loveless said. "Antoinette is waiting for us." He walked away laughing.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Washington DC – A Cell in the Federal Prison_

James West was pacing his cell, feeling like his brain was about to explode. He didn't understand what the hell was going on. Damn it, he had been James West all his life and now they were telling him he wasn't. And not just 'them', Artie was saying it too, Artie and his blasted truth drug. Why did they believe Artie and not him? What game was Artie playing? A very, very small voice at the back of his mind was asking why Artie would lie and whether it was possible he was right. But Jim silenced that voice ruthlessly. Artie had to be lying because he was and had always been James West – hadn't he?

"Be quiet!" he said and then looked around him. Good grief! Was he losing his mind? Well anyone in his situation would. His very existence had been questioned – was being questioned. He threw himself down on his bunk and stared at the ceiling then closed his eyes to blot out the reality of his situation. They'd locked him in a cell, him – James West - and his friends, his colleagues had all turned on him. It was a nightmare.

"Why did I agree to let Artie give me that truth drug?" He asked the same question out loud that he had asked himself silently hundreds of times since he had been taken from the Wanderer and brought to that place.

He didn't know that he was in a special holding cell and that he was being watched through a small spy-hole in the ceiling. Maybe if he hadn't been so agitated he would have realised.

 _Washington DC – A small room in the Federal Prison_

"He was certainly behaving as if he really is James West," Colonel Richmond said to his companion. "And it's certainly a good question. If he knew he was not James West then why would he allow Mr Gordon to give him the truth drug?"

The Colonel's companion was Doctor Spender who was an expert in human mental development and had also been watching the prisoner. "Very true," he replied. "Of course, you have verified the information that Mr Gordon collected when he subjected this man to the truth drug?"

"Yes. We had a doctor of our own put him under the influence of the drug almost as soon as he arrived. He has no idea we did so but we had to be sure of our facts. This is James West we're talking about."

"It's a remarkable case, in effect a man with a dual personality."

"Yes, but is there any way of making this man Prescott remember when he first became James West and what happened to the original?"

"It's tricky problem. It would be easier if we had the person who was involved in his substitution for the real Mr West."

"We have our suspicions but even if they're correct the man has escaped from the prison where he was being kept and we have no idea where to find him." Colonel Richmond looked at his watch. "Look, I have to go to an important meeting right now. I'll leave you in charge of interrogating the prisoner. Please inform me of any progress you make."

"Yes, Colonel, you can leave the matter with me."

Richmond nodded and left for his meeting with President Grant.

Doctor Spender smiled. So Doctor Loveless had escaped. Knowing that made it easier for him to carry on with the plan they had made. He left to have a talk with 'James West'.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 3

' **Tis strange - but true; for truth is always strange;  
Stranger than fiction**

(Don Juan 1823)

 _A Ranch somewhere in Colorado_

"My plan has worked perfectly," Loveless told Antoinette. "I have pulled off a magnificent double bluff."

Loveless giggled with glee and danced around the parlour where he and Antoinette had been having tea, served by the ever-faithful Voltaire. Antoinette beamed at him.

"You are so clever my love and I have missed you these last weeks."

"Yes, that was the only flaw in the proceedings," Loveless admitted, frowning momentarily. "I hadn't factored in Mr Gordon's interference and the clever way our Mr West interfered with the electrical system. Still, everything is as it should be now," he added, rubbing his hands gleefully.

"Would you like some more tea, Miguelito?"

"No thank you, my dear, I am quite refreshed. It's time that I reacquainted myself with our guest. Where is he by the way?"

"Where he usually is this time of day, taking a horse ride. This ranch is very big and he rides for hours every afternoon, when he has finished his chores." She consulted the clock on the mantle. "He should be back any time now."

"Then I shall go to the stables and await his return."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Washington DC – A Cell in the Federal Prison_

The man who called himself James West had regained his composure a little and was systematically inspecting his cell to see if there was anything he could use to make his escape. It would mean going on the run as a hunted fugitive but he had already lost the people who had called themselves his friends and he obviously couldn't do anything to help his case sitting in a Federal jail cell so had decided he would be better off if he were free.

He heard the clanking of keys as one was inserted into his cell door and it was slowly opened. The guards were obviously not taking any chances with the Secret Service Agent. They had been warned how resourceful he was. One of them entered while the other stayed in the corridor, pointing a gun at the doorway. The first guard called out and another one joined him. While West was held at gunpoint they took his arms and shackled his hands behind his back. Then they sat him down on his bunk and stood either side of him as Doctor Spender entered.

"Hello, Mr Prescott," he began. The prisoner scowled at him. "Ah, I see that you don't like me using that name," he said.

"My name is James West," the prisoner replied.

"Very interesting," Spender commented. "I have been told that you really believe that you are James West."

"That's because I am," came the reply. "What do I have to do to convince you and get out of here?"

"I'm afraid that is not going to happen. Mr Gordon's truth drug proved that you are not James West."

"Then Artie got it wrong. Why would I offer to take the drug if I was not James West?"

"Yes that is a difficult question to answer. Frankly it makes no sense except when one realises you are convinced that you ARE James West. But I am not taking Mr Gordon's word for it. You were tested again, after you arrived in Washington and the results were exactly the same."

"You're lying."

"I assure you I would not do that and I have no reason to. You were given the second test without your knowledge but the results were conclusive. I have been asked to do an assessment of you and it would be best if you were to cooperate with me so that I might be able to formulate a course of therapy that will hopefully free you from this delusion and help us to find the real James West."

The prisoner sighed. There was no way he was going to convince this man. He might as well play along. "Go ahead," he said.

"Good. I would like to ask you some questions. Firstly, have you ever heard the name Gabriel Prescott?"

"That's who they think I am, isn't it?"

"Please answer the question."

"The answer's 'no', I have never heard that name before."

Spender wrote something in a notebook and continued with his questioning.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _A Ranch somewhere in Colorado_

Dr Loveless watched as the black horse came into view and the rider drew back on the reins to slow down as he approached the stables. When he caught sight of the Doctor he waved in his direction and Loveless returned the greeting.

The young man dismounted and led his horse to the stable door where he was met by Loveless. He was about five feet eleven inches tall, fit-looking, with dark hair neatly brushed and eyes that were greenish in hue. The smiled he aimed at the small man in front of him was charming

"Hello, Doctor, I'm glad to see you're back."

"It's good to be back, Gabe. Do you like the horse I got you?"

Gabe stroked the animal's nose. "I never had a black stallion before. He's beautiful. Thank you, Doctor Loveless."

"I hope you like living here," the Doctor continued as he entered the stable with the young man. He stood and watched as Gabe led the horse to a stall where he removed its saddle, brushed it and gave it water.

"Who wouldn't?" the young man asked as he worked. "I just wish I had some way to repay you. I've been glad to do the chores here but there isn't much to do. Miss Antoinette handles the household things though I do help her with the heavy work."

"Very commendable; you've been a great help. Maybe I'll be able to think of some way you can pay me back," Loveless replied with a smile. "In fact I already have something in mind. We'll discuss it after dinner tonight. Now, we'd better get back to the house so that you can get washed up before we eat."

"Yes, sir," Gabe said as the two of them headed back.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Washington DC – Colonel Richmond's Office_

Artemus Gordon was sitting in a chair, sipping sherry. He was very on edge.

"Have you had any success in finding Doctor Loveless," Richmond asked him.

"Not a trace," Artie said. "I'm sure he has something to do with all this and I can't see that we have a chance of finding Jim without him."

"So you think West is still alive?"

Artie gazed down into the liquid in his glass. "I don't know but I won't give up on him until I have proof that he's dead," he said, hesitating over the last word. It was unthinkable to put it into words.

"Do you think he wants to kill West?"

"Jim told me…." He stopped and swallowed. "At least the man who I thought was Jim told me that Loveless blamed him for the failure of his previous plan and for sending him to prison. Evidently he was going to use Janus to get the explosives formula back. Once Janus was accepted by me he meant to kill Jim."

"I see."

Silence fell as both men pondered the almost possibility of West's demise. Artemus spoke first

"I know Jim. If he was being held prisoner he would do his utmost to escape and he's darn successful at it. What I want to know is how Loveless managed to end up with two copies of Jim and what his real plan was."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	4. Chapter 4

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 4

 **Every truth has two sides; it is as well to look at both, before we commit ourselves to either.** (Aesop)

 _A Ranch somewhere in Colorado_

Dinner was over and Doctor Loveless and his guest were relaxing in the parlour. Voltaire had served them coffee and been thanked as had Antoinette for the delicious meal she had cooked.

"Would you like a cigar?" Loveless asked, a twinkle in his eye, which changed to a gleam when the other man shook his head.

"No thanks, I never could stand the things."

Loveless lay back in his armchair and watched his companion closely.

"You have no recollection of how you came to be here do you?" he said.

"No."

"When I found you in the woods behind here you were near to dying. I had you brought to the house and paid for the best doctors. You won't remember that because you were unconscious."

"I'm very grateful."

"We didn't know where you had come from and when you recovered you couldn't tell us. You had lost your memory."

"I only remember my life before coming here."

"You told me you were a drifter, a man for hire, a criminal when necessary."

"That's right. I'm not proud of my past but sometimes a man is forced to use his gun or his fists to make a living. It's either that or starvation."

"At least you have been gainfully employed here on the ranch since your recovery."

"Yes, but I have often thought during your absence that you kept me here for a different reason, that you had a job you wanted me to do for you."

"Yes, you're right," Loveless said, then choosing his words carefully he added, "I want you to carry out a small commission for me, Gabriel; something along the lines of your late occupation."

"Will it involve shooting someone?" Gabe asked. "Only I never actually killed anyone before. Of course, if it's important…."

"No, no, my dear boy, nothing of that sort will be required." At this point the Doctor couldn't quell an outright smirk at the gratifying response he had received.

"Good, because I'd just as well not, only I owe you a lot."

It was then that Loveless outlined exactly what he wanted Gabe to do to repay his debt to him.

Ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Washington DC – A Cell in the Federal Prison_

The erstwhile James West was lying on his bunk, looking quite relaxed. However, his thoughts were racing. He had answered all the questions Doctor Spender had put to him, surely proving without doubt that he was who he said he was..…and the Doctor hadn't moved an inch in his opinion. But he refused to doubt himself even though everyone else did. As the Doctor was leaving he had asked him if he could arrange a visit from Artemus Gordon. He felt that he was somehow at the bottom of all this and only he could sort it out. The Doctor had said he would ask but that he knew for a fact that the Agent was busy heading up the search for the real James West. Even thinking back on that statement sent hot and cold shivers running through him. He thought that Artie was wasting his time but still that little imp in the back of his mind wouldn't be silent, asking – what if he actually found him?

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Colonel Richmond's Office_

"I have questioned Prescott quite thoroughly," Doctor Spender said. He was reporting back to Colonel Richmond and Artemus Gordon was also present.

"What is your conclusion?" the Colonel Asked.

"He definitely believes that he is James West. There is no doubt in his mind and, if I didn't know better, I would believe him."

"Is there anything you can do to make him remember what happened to him?" Artie asked.

"I should have to reconcile his subconscious with his conscious mind, a very difficult if not impossible thing to do and it could take weeks or even months."

Artie almost growled with frustration. "We need him to regain his memory if we are to find Loveless."

"How is the search going?" Richmond asked.

"I've sent out details to our agents in the field. Law enforcement agencies are also looking for him. But without any leads there is no point in my leaving Washington. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack."

"I presume you have already checked the ghost town where he was arrested?"

"First thing I did; there was no sign of him." He sighed. "There's nothing to do but wait for information to come in."

"If you are going to be around for the next day or so perhaps you would like to visit Mr Prescott. He asked me if I could arrange for him to talk with you."

"Is that a good idea?" Richmond asked.

Artie ran his hands through his hair. He wasn't a man who lacked courage in the normal run of things but he had mixed emotions about the way he had dealt with the man whom he had treated as his friend and partner for the past few weeks and he was reluctant to face him.

"What could we have to say to each other?" he asked, knowing it was a feeble attempt to avoid confrontation.

"That's your decision," Spender said. "I told him it might not be possible."

"Perhaps you should talk to him," Richmond said. You know James West better than anyone and he trusts you. You might be able to persuade him to give up this idea that he's who he thinks he is."

"I don't think..…" Spender began.

Artie nodded. "Since you insist," he said.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Back at the Ranch_

Loveless was explaining to Gabe what it was he wanted him to do.

"There's a town about fifty miles from here called Brinksville and there's a man there who owes me a lot of money."

"How come?"

"He stole it from me in a shady deal," Loveless lied. In fact the whole thing was a lie.

"That's downright dishonest!"

"Yes and I want you to get that money back for me."

"How am I going do that?"

"This man owns the local saloon and he has a big safe in his office. The money is inside the safe."

"How do I open it?"

"You'll have to make him tell you the combination. Do you think you can do that?"

"Am I allowed to hurt him?"

"If it's necessary…." He paused. "…..or you could employ an explosive." With that he removed a small ball of putty from his pocket and handed it to his companion. "You can mould this to the lock and then set fire to it," he explained with a gleam in his eye. "The explosion will take place in three minutes; plenty of time for you to shield yourself."

Gabe examined the explosive closely and kneaded it between his finger and thumb. Loveless touched his hand. "Don't allow it to become too hot," he warned. "It could turn volatile."

Gabe nodded. "I'll be careful," he said. "When do you want me to do it?"

"I think that first it might be expedient to furnish you with a disguise. We wouldn't want anyone to recognise you, would we?"

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Back at the Federal Prison_

The door of the cell opened and, after the usual practice of incapacitating the prisoner, Artemus Gordon entered and stood in the middle of the room, looking down at his erstwhile companion. The first thing he did was dismiss the guards.

"Wait outside but keep your guns drawn!" he ordered.

Artie watched the two guards leave and then stole a sidelong glance at the other occupant of the cell. This was going to be difficult.

"I was told you wanted to see me," he said. That was neutral enough, he decided.

"I thought you might have something to say to me," was the reply.

Artie looked him in the eye.

"Look, I'm sorry….."

"Well that's a start."

"…..that you really believe that you're James West but once I found out you weren't him I couldn't not do something about it."

"I just don't understand how you can be so certain. We've been through so much together but I don't even get the benefit of the doubt from you."

"That's because there is no doubt in my mind, Mr Prescott."

The deliberate use of his name didn't go unnoticed by the other man. His lips tightened at the implied insult.

Artie bowed his head, suddenly saddened by the whole situation.

"What would you have done if you were me?" he asked, his voice low but intense.

Prescott was quiet for a while, thinking about life without Artemus Gordon. Could he accept a copy, even if he wasn't entirely sure? He could see why Artie was scouring the country to find partner. He didn't have to say anything; Artie could tell that he had gotten through to him.

"So you can see why I have to try and find him."

"Yes, but what if you can't find him?"

"Then I will have to bury an empty coffin and mourn the bravest and most resourceful man I ever knew."

Prescott gave a short humourless laugh. "I don't suppose there would be any room in that scenario for a substitute?" Artie shook his head. "I didn't think so. What's going to happen to me now?"

"You could do the fair and decent thing and help me find James West."

"Supposing I agreed to do the 'fair and decent thing', what do you want from me?"

"Let go of your certainty that you are James West and accept who you really are even though you have no memory of him. We need your cooperation to find out how and when you were substituted for the real James West and who was responsible."

"What do you suggest? I don't suppose hypnosis would do any good."

"No, according to Dr Spender the break between you conscious and subconscious mind is too complete."

"Then you have to find the person behind it."

It was Artie's turn to laugh. "Don't you think I've been trying?"

"I'm sorry; I guess I'm not the only one suffering from frustration. What do you suggest?"

"I've collected quite a lot of information on Gabriel Prescott from my sessions with you while you were under the influence of the truth drug. Would you be willing to study it and see if any of it jogs your memory?"

"Sure, if t will help. If I'm denied the chance to lead my life as James West then it doesn't really matter what happens to me."

Just what the real James West would have said, Artie thought.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	5. Chapter 5

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 5

 **A lie told often enough becomes the truth**

(Vladimir Lenin)

 _A Ranch somewhere in the Mid-West_

Antoinette entered the parlour ahead of Gabe, smiling sweetly.

"Come in and show the Doctor the disguise I have given you," she said.

Prescott seemed to enjoy the attention he received as he showed the change that his hostess had wrought in him. Loveless stared at him open-mouthed at first and then a huge smile invaded his face. The man standing in front of him no longer closely resembled James West. His hair was slightly shorter than before and blond, making him startlingly beautiful. He was dressed in a pale blue shirt that brought that hue out in his eyes and had a darker blue neckerchief. He looked somehow younger and more innocent than his counterpart. His outfit was completed by black trousers and a pair of tan ankle boots with Cuban heels.

Dr Loveless turned to Antoinette. "The hair is a nice touch," he said. Then he turned his attention back to the young man.

"Never have I seen anyone who looked less like a man bent on robbery. You look more like an angel – my avenging angel."

Gabe looked embarrassed.

"Ah, I've embarrassed you," Loveless said. "Your disguise is perfect. Do you have the explosive?"

"Yes," Gabe replied, patting the breast pocket of his shirt.

"Good. You will leave now so that it will be dark by the time you reach Brinksville."

"Yes, Doctor."

"Oh, and ride the black stallion," he added in what seemed an afterthought but which had been his plan all along.

"I'll come straight back with the money," Gabe promised.

"I trust you," Loveless said.

After the young man had left the room Loveless took Antoinette's hands and twirled her round while the pair of them laughed.

When they had calmed down, Loveless said, "There's just time for us to dine before we go into town to send a telegraph to the Sheriff in Brinksville."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _A Small town in Colorado_

Sometime after Gabriel Prescott had left the ranch, Loveless entered the telegraph office, he and Antoinette having been driven into town by Voltaire in the hired wagon. He walked over to the counter. Antoinette followed him.

"I want to send an urgent telegraph to the Sheriff in Brinksville," he said, giving the man a hand-written message.

"Certainly, Sir," the man said, scanning the words and quoting him a price. Loveless paid him and waited while the message was sent. The telegrapher made no sign that he noticed the sensational content of the message. There was still quite a lot of lawlessness in that part of the country.

When he had finished he turned to the Doctor. "Do you want to send a reply to the telegram that came for you this afternoon?" he asked, handing over an envelope.

Loveless almost grabbed the missive from him. He tore open the envelope and scanned the contents. He scowled and then screwed the piece of paper into a ball before making up his mind.

"Yes, send this reply please." He dictated. A sentence or two and had him sign it 'ML'.

The telegraph operator asked Loveless for more money and began to tap out the message.

"Someone will drop by tomorrow to see if there is a reply," Loveless said, knowing that Voltaire would now have to visit the post office for him anyway.

"Very good, Sir."

As soon as they were outside, Antoinette demanded to know what was in the telegram.

"It was from Dr Spender, letting me know that the package I placed on the train has been delivered to the Federal Prison in Washington DC. I told him to keep an eye on it and report back any changes."

"So they have discovered the switch," Antoinette said.

"Yes and that meddling Artemus Gordon is involved."

"What will you do now, my dear?"

Loveless smiled grimly. "I think it's time for Mr James West to meet his maker." He said.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Back at the Ranch_

Loveless took an envelope from the drawer in the desk in his study and handed it to Antoinette.

"This is the photograph that I took of the real Mr Prescott, after his physical transformation but before his programming."

Antoinette removed the photograph and looked at it closely. It depicted what appeared to be James West, lying in the dirt, obviously dead because he had a bullet hole through his forehead.

"This is very convincing," she said.

"That is why I am going to send it to Mr Gordon in Washington. I foresaw the time when I would need proof of Mr West's death. Voltaire will take this to the post office in town tomorrow."

"You are so clever, my dear Miguelito," Antoinette said, placing the photograph back in the envelope and handing it back to him.

"Thank you, my dear. By the way, I wonder how poor Gabe is getting on in Brinksville?"

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Brinksville_

Gabe had arrived in Brinksville a few minutes before Doctor Loveless despatched his telegram to the sheriff there. He had left the black stallion just outside of town. The horse was remarkably in tune with his movements and he knew it would come if he whistled for it. Goodness knows where the Doctor had found it.

He moved stealthily into town, sticking to the shadows, until he reached the rear of the saloon where the Doctor had told him the owner's office would be. He pulled his neckerchief up over the lower half of his face and then silently jimmied the window and slowly opened it. The room was in darkness as he slid over the windowsill and landed on the carpet without a sound. He could see the safe in the corner. He tiptoed over to it and then, just as he was about to take a good look at it, he heard the noise of someone approaching from the corridor. Good, this could be the owner and he would be able to get the combination out of him.

Gabe stationed himself behind the door and waited. It opened and a man of medium build entered the room. That was all Gabe could tell until the man walked over to a table and lit a lamp. Before he could do any more, Gabe jumped him from behind and brought him to the floor. He dragged him upright by placing a strong arm around his neck and then clamped a hand over his mouth.

"Now, tell me the combination of the safe or it will be the worse for you," he threatened in an undertone.

The man nodded and Gabe pushed him into a chair and whipped out his gun. The man gulped and swallowed nervously when he saw the firearm.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know," he said.

"Let's start with that combination," Gabe said, his voice still perfectly audible through the material of the neckerchief.

The man was about to tell him when the door burst open and two men rushed in while, at the same time, two more men came in through the open window. They were all armed.

"Drop your weapon, Prescott!" one of them commanded and Gabe had no choice but to comply. He noticed that the other three men holstered their guns once he was disarmed and one of them pulled out a pair of handcuffs and started toward him from the direction of window.

Quick as a flash Gabe grabbed him and threw him at the man with the gun, both of them ending up on the floor. Seeing his advantage Gabe then turned and punched the other man by the window on the jaw and leapt for the opening. However one of the other men from the doorway grabbed his ankles and pulled him back into the room where there was a general exchange of blows ending with Gabe on the carpet and four men sitting on top of him while the handcuffs were fastened around his wrists and another pair around his ankles.

"I'm not taking any chances with you," the Sheriff told him.

Gabriel Prescott was then ignominiously half carried, half dragged from the saloon and over to the jail.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	6. Chapter 6

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 6

 **Once you eliminate the impossible whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth** (Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle)

 _The Office of the President_

"There is the proof then, gentlemen," President Grant said, pointing at the photograph.

Artie picked it up off the President's desk and looked at it one more time through a magnifying glass. "It just can't be," he said.

"It must be James West," Richmond said. "We buried Janus and we still have Gabriel Prescott under lock and key in the Federal Prison. It saddens me very much to say it but we have to accept that Doctor Loveless has finally succeeded in killing James West."

Artie turned away from the two men in grief and anger. He just couldn't bring himself to believe it. How could it have happened and why? Was it because he had exposed Loveless' imposter? He blanched at the thought that he might have been the cause of his friend's death. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to face the President.

"You have my deepest sympathy, Artemus," he said. "James West was a great man, both as a soldier and as a secret agent in defence of the Government of this country he loved so much. I shall miss him."

Artie was touched to see a tear in the corner of the great man's eye and he felt them welling up in his own. But he shook his head and prevented them from falling.

"I won't let his life end like this," he said, "not with Jim lying in the dirt like that, a bullet through his brain. I'm going to find that evil little doctor and make him pay for what he's done."

"You have my sanction, of course," Grant said. "But how will you manage it? You haven't had any success so far."

Artie thought for a moment and then it came to him.

"I'm going to search for Jim's horse. We haven't seen it since the night he disappeared from the restaurant that night. When he left in the carriage with Marie his horse went too. The imposter Jim has been riding a different one. It wasn't at the ghost town so maybe Loveless took the horse someplace else. That might be where he's holed up now and where I'll find him. It's worth a look."

Grant and Richmond both looked dubious but Richmond spoke first. "That's a good idea, Mr Gordon. Get onto it right away."

"I will," Artie said. "If you'll excuse me, Colonel, Mr President" he added. Then he looked back at where the photograph lay, as if he would like to take it with him, before straightening his back and leaving the office.

"Do you think he stands a chance of finding it?" The President asked.

"I'm afraid not, Sir," the Colonel replied, "but we have to let him try, for his own sake."

Just then there came a knock at the door and a young soldier, one of the two who were guarding the door, entered.

"What is it?" the President demanded.

"This note just arrived from the Federal Prison, Mr President," the young man announced, handing over a folded piece of paper.

Grant dismissed him and read what was written on it.

"Confound it!" he said.

"What is it?" Richmond asked.

"Gabriel Prescott has broken out of prison."

"What?" the Colonel asked in disbelief.

"Prescott's gone and it looks like Dr Spender was the one who sprung him."

"So Spender is in Loveless' employ. Do we have any idea where they went?"

"No, they got away without being followed. Here's another pretty pickle."

"I must go to the prison and find out what happened," Richmond said.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Brinksville Jail_

Gabe found himself locked in a cell in the Brinksville jail, wondering how he got there. He was so sure that he had not been spotted entering either the town or the saloon. He also wondered if he would ever see Doctor Loveless again or if his benefactor would wash his hands of him now he had failed in his mission. It was hard to think that he wouldn't see the beautiful Antoinette again. Would she tell Loveless about the kisses and more they had exchanged while the Doctor had been incarcerated, he wondered?

He lay down on the bunk in his cell and thought about his future. With his past they would have enough against him to give him a good long sentence. It was as he turned onto his side that he became aware that the explosive putty was still in his shirt pocket. They hadn't searched there and even he had forgotten all about it. It was late at night by this time and on checking the front office through the bars, he realised that there was only one deputy on duty; a good time to make his escape. Gabe remembered what Loveless had said about the explosive becoming volatile if it was overheated. He removed the putty from his pocked and rolled it between the sole of his boot and the stone cell floor. After a few minutes wisps of smoke appeared. Gabe picked up the explosive and moulded it to the lock mechanism before it became too hot to touch. He then hid himself under the bunk, with his back to the door and his hands over his ears.

There was a loud explosion and the cell door swung open. The deputy, not realising what had happened, came rushing into the room and Gabe ran at him, catching him off guard. He grabbed his head and punched him twice. Once the deputy was lying on the floor, incapacitated, Gabe made a run for the front office where he was stopped by the Sheriff, who had come to see what the loud noise was. He grabbed hold of Gabe and threw him against the wall. His head made contact with the bricks and he slid to the floor unconscious.

"What the hell has been going on here?" he asked then looked toward the cell area. "Jack, are you okay?" he shouted.

The deputy staggered toward him. "I guess so," he said. Then he looked over to the prisoner. "Did you kill him?" he asked.

"I don't think so. We're going to have to take him to the state prison," he said. "He won't be able to escape from there."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Back at the Ranch_

Voltaire entered the parlour where Antoinette and the Doctor were sitting, drinking a post-dinner sherry. He had the fake James West by the arm and was dragging him and restraining him at the same time. Dr Spender followed them in.

"Doctor Loveless," the fake James West exclaimed.

Loveless put down his glass and jumped up. Antoinette watched with her mouth open.

He turned to Spender. "What are you doing here? I told you to report to me, not break him out of prison."

"Because of Artemus Gordon, my programming had begun to unravel. Prescott began to remember and I was frightened he would remember this place and give the whole game away."

"You did the right thing then," Loveless conceded. "But it shouldn't have happened. You told me your programming was foolproof."

"And it would have been if Gordon hadn't come up with his truth drug."

"A truth drug?" Loveless said.

""Yes, a truth drug," Prescott said. "Just what's going on here? I agreed to take James West's place but I didn't sign up to have my brain messed with."

"Keep him silent, Voltaire!" Loveless ordered.

Voltaire bent Prescott's arm behind his back and placed his large hand over the man's mouth so that he was unable to move or speak.

"Gordon gave our James West a truth drug and found out that he wasn't West at all," Spender continued. "From then on it was only a matter of time before they managed to break him."

"Well, it doesn't really matter now," the little Doctor, conceded. "The real James West is still convinced that HE is Gabriel Prescott and by now I imagine he is languishing in jail. He should get a pretty stiff sentence for the robbery I sent him to carry out."

Spender took Loveless to one side and spoke in a low voice, so that Prescott couldn't hear him. "What are you going to do with him?" he asked, nodding in Prescott's direction.

"Why, eliminate him of course. He's of no more use to me and he could turn out to be quite useful as a dead man."

Loveless looked over at Voltaire. "Let him go," he said.

Voltaire released his prisoner and moved back. Prescott stood there, bewildered as Loveless took a gun from inside his jacket and shot him straight between the eyes.

Spender gasped but Voltaire and Antoinette simply stared at the Doctor.

"Ugh, how horrible," Loveless said. "I'm not a violent man and it pains me to have to carry out such a distasteful act. However, it was necessary. Voltaire, take Mr Prescott away. I can't bear to look on ugliness, as you know."

Voltaire bowed slightly and then did as Loveless had bidden him.

Spender watched all of this with eyes as wide as saucers. He didn't feel at all safe.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _The Wanderer – Washington DC_

Artie had wondered at first how he was to carry out his plan of tracking down James West's black stallion. Jim must have ridden it to the restaurant the night he disappeared, yet there had been no sign of it there after he left with Marie. Loveless must have taken it. The horse had not turned up in the ghost town where Loveless had held the man, who Artie now knew to be Prescott, prisoner in the guise of James West. Marie had been completely fooled by Loveless into thinking it was the real James West making love to her for the two weeks they were there.

So if the horse wasn't there then it must be at a third location where Loveless had been keeping the real James West as well. That logic took Artie so far but where that second hideout was remained a mystery. He needed to find it because that was where he expected to find Jim's body and he wanted to bring it back to Washington for a proper burial. That was the only thing left that he could do for his partner now.

Artie sighed and took another sip of whiskey. It wasn't the first time he had been on the Wanderer by himself but it was the first time that he had no hope that his friend would come riding back, with information regarding an assignment or to recuperate from some ordeal. There had always been danger involved but Jim had always come out of those types of situations with his skin intact and usually a beautiful woman on his arm.

Colonel Richmond hadn't assigned him a new partner yet. He understood that Artie needed a little time to try at least to finish off this last assignment, to find James West and bring him home. And if not him then at least find the stallion of which he was so fond. Though he didn't know what he would do with the animal if he did find him. There was no way he could ever handle him. He was an indifferent horseman at best. He supposed he would put it out to pasture or use it to breed from. But first he had to find it.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	7. Chapter 7

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 7

 **My Speciality is being right when other people are wrong**

(George Bernard Shaw)

 _The Ghost Town_

"Do you think it is safe to return here, my love?" Antoinette asked.

Loveless smiled back at her. "There is nothing to worry about, my dear. We shan't be here long. You know I have an artistic mind and it demands that I leave Mr Prescott's body here, in place of Mr West, just as he was in life."

"I understand," Antoinette said, "but please don't be long."

Voltaire, carrying Prescott's body, followed his employer into the building. He placed it on the bed of the room that he had used before, where Marie had brought him food and kissed him.

"That's perfect," Loveless said. "Come, Voltaire."

The tall man followed him from the room, back to the carriage where Antoinette was waiting. Dr Spender was sitting opposite her and Loveless sat beside him. Voltaire climbed onto the box and took up the reins.

"Now we must go into town and send another telegraph to Mr Gordon and then we can leave for pastures new," Loveless said. "The warmth of California calls me. I have noticed some aching in my joints."

Voltaire had already had his instructions and he set the horses in motion.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Washington DC – A week later, in the cemetery after the funeral of James West_

"I feel so guilty," Artie confided to his superior. "Once I had checked that ghost town for Loveless' presence I should have left someone there in case he came back."

"It wouldn't have helped," Richmond said. "Jim was already dead by then. Loveless only went back there to leave his body."

"I know, but at least I would have been able to capture that evil little man."

"He made a mistake when he sent that telegraph telling us where to find Jim's body. We managed to trace it back to the town where he had been holed up."

"Yes but he was long gone by the time we arrived. We will probably never find him unless he draws attention to himself by committing some new crime."

"At least you brought James home to where he belongs and we buried him with full honours."

Satisfying as it had been to find his partner and bring him home, Artie didn't want to remember any part of the funeral at the moment. He had put off mourning his partner and friend until he retrieved the body and now he just wanted to get away from there and drown his sorrows. He felt weak for feeling that way and wondered briefly how Jim would react if the tables had been reversed. He couldn't imagine his erstwhile companion behaving that way. Jim would probably go off and beat hell out of some baddy or get on his horse and ride him hard until neither of them could go any further.

Suddenly Artie's head shot up and an indistinct noise left his lips.

"Artemus, are you all right?" Colonel Richmond asked.

"Sorry if I startled you, Sir, I just remembered that I was going to look for Jim's horse Blackjack. I forgot all about it after I received that telegram from Doctor Loveless."

"Surely there is no need now that we have found his body."

"Yes, but it's the only thing now I can do for Jim, make sure his horse is all right. You know how he loved that horse."

Richmond nodded. "All right," he said. "I was going to suggest you take some time off before we assign you a new partner. You might as well spend it looking for Jim's horse."

Artie grasped his superior's arm. "Thank you, Sir."

"I want you back here in two weeks, though."

"Can I take the Wanderer?"

"I don't see why not."

Artie left the cemetery and went to find his horse. It might not make any difference in the grand scheme of things but at least looking for Jim's horse would give him a purpose and would also take his mind off his loss for a short while. He thought he might need all of the two weeks he had been given.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Colorado State Penitentiary_

Gabe Prescott had spent only a few days on remand before a short trial saw him convicted of armed robbery and sentenced to seven years in the State Penitentiary. His garb as an inmate was coarse and ill-fitting and the food was plain revolting. As he served his sentence in the austere environment of the prison he couldn't help feeling bitter about his situation. He hadn't expected Dr Loveless to come forward and admit his involvement in the botched robbery but he had expected some sort of communication from him. He hadn't turned up for the trial or sent him anything to relieve his suffering situation. He had to accept that he had been abandoned by the little man. At least he could hold his own in the fights that regularly broke out among the prisoners but he had been in solitary confinement for the last week for breaking someone's nose. He couldn't stand being cooped up so he had ended by literally climbing the walls, bouncing up them with his feet in frustration. He was desperate to be free but couldn't see any way to achieve it. One soul-destroying day after another would be his lot for the next seven years. He hung his head in his hands.

"Hey, you, stop slacking!" a voice shouted at him.

That was the only good thing about solitary confinement, he thought, it got you out of the hard labour that was part of the daily grind. At this rate he would be an old man before his time, fit only for the scrap heap when his time was finally up.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _The Wanderer – Brinksville_

Artie had spent every day of the two weeks allotted to him in searching for Blackjack without success. But he hadn't given up, demanding of Richmond that he give him a little more time. The Colonel had agreed, partly because Artie had the Wanderer in his possession and the Colonel didn't want to send someone to wrest it from a grieving man and partly because Artie had threatened to resign and the Service needed his talents too much. So he had been in his fourth week when he finally made a breakthrough. He had been searching the newspapers in Colorado and found a notice of a horse sale. What had caught Artie's eye was the mention of a large black stallion. Maybe he had been clutching at straws but, having no other leads, he had decided to go to the sale anyway which was taking place in a small town called Brinksville.

Artie left the Wanderer and, after retrieving his chestnut horse from the stable car, he rode into Brinksville in plenty of time for the start of the sale.

The selling agent had set up some stables and a coral on the outskirts of town. A large number of buyers and dealers were crowded around. Artie went in search of the agent and found him directing his men on the order in which each horse would be shown.

"I want to talk to you about the black stallion you have for sale," Artie told him.

"Ah yes, magnificent beast," the agent said. "I'm expecting a good price for him, though I have to warn you he's a bit hard to handle."

Artie was encouraged by the description though it could be true of almost all stallions, he supposed. Still, the man had thought it worth mentioning so he could be describing Jim's horse. That animal was notorious for being ornery.

"Could I take a look at the horse?"

"Sure, step this way."

Artie entered the stable and the agent led him to the stall where the black stallion was housed. The animal was obviously not happy with its accommodation and was tossing his head and pawing the ground.

"He's quite a beast," Artie said. He had recognised Blackjack instantly and his heart had started beating a little faster. This was his last tie to James West.

"To be honest with you he's not the sort of animal I usually deal in but I'm doing a favour for a friend. I honestly don't know if I'll be able to find a buyer. For one thing he won't let anyone on his back."

No, Artie thought, the only person who ever rode that horse was James West and if I have anything to say about it he'll remain the only one.

"How about if I make you an offer?" Artie suggested.

"I don't want any comebacks," the agent said.

"Why, are you worried he'll kick me to death?"

The agent looked over at Blackjack and then back at Artie.

"I wouldn't put it past him," he said.

"Look, you let me worry about that. Name your price, but part of that has to be the name of this friend of yours who owns the horse."

The agent thought about it for a moment and then named a sum that was totally reasonable. Artie would have paid any price so he simply nodded and shook the man's hand.

"Deal," he said and handed over the cash. "And your friend's name is….?"

"Sam Dickerson," the agent said. "He owns the livery stable in town."

"Thank you. Do you have a halter for the horse?"

"Got his original saddle and all the works," the agent said. "Course it'll cost you extra."

Artie sighed. "How much?" he asked, getting his wallet out again.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	8. Chapter 8

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 8

 **Truth will ultimately prevail where there is pains to bring it to light**

(George Washington)

 _Brinksville_

Artie found Sam Dickerson in the saloon. The first thing he did was buy the man another whiskey.

"Mighty kind of you," Dickerson said. "Do I know you?" He took a good look at Artie and then shook his head. "Nope, don't recall I ever met you before."

"I've been looking for you, Mr Dickerson."

"Why, do you want to stable your horse?"

"Er no," Artie said with a smile. "I bought a black stallion today and I believe you were the owner. I just wondered where you got the horse from."

"I didn't steal the horse," Dickerson said defensively.

"I never said you did," Artie told him. "He is such a fine horse I just wanted to know more about his history."

"I can't tell you anything about him before a month ago. I found him on the outskirts of town, eating grass and, from his saddle, it was obvious he was well-cared for and waiting for his owner. I brought him back to the livery stable which wasn't easy; he's an ornery beast when he sets his mind to it. He ate his head off for a couple of weeks and then, when it looked like he'd been abandoned I had a word with the sheriff about him."

"And what did he say?"

"He reckoned the horse must have belonged to the young fellow who tried to rob the saloon owner and was hauled off to the State Penitentiary. Seeing as he's not coming back, the sheriff told me I could sell his horse and get back the money I spent on his keep and a bit more."

"A lot more, I would say."

"Well why not, that fellow won't be needing it anymore."

"What do you know about him?" Artie asked. He had found James West's horse but he just couldn't leave it there. He wanted to know how Blackjack had ended up in Brinksville and also who the extraordinary young man was whom Blackjack had allowed to ride him. He couldn't believe he had mistreated the horse. Blackjack was now back on board the Wanderer and he didn't seem any the worse for his recent adventures.

"You'd better ask the sheriff."

"Okay. Thanks."

Artie nodded to the man and left the saloon to seek out the sheriff's office.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _Sheriff's Office - Brinksville_

Artie felt it wouldn't do any harm to reveal who he was when talking to the sheriff so he started by introducing himself as a Secret Agent for the Treasury.

"What can I do for you, Mr Gordon?" The sheriff asked. "I can't imagine there being any crimes in this town that would interest you." He laughed nervously.

"I'm actually just after some information. There's nothing for you to worry about."

The sheriff looked relieved. "Sure, happy to help, what do you want to know?"

"Sam Dickerson at the livery stable tells me you gave him permission to sell a black stallion."

"Yeah, there was nothing illegal in that; the horse was abandoned. I didn't do anything wrong," the sheriff said, on the defensive again.

"That's not the issue," Artie reassured him. "Dickerson said the horse belonged to an armed robber. Is that correct?"

"Yes, nasty piece of work. Wouldn't think it to look at him though; he was blond, well dressed, with quite a way about him. Name was Gabriel Prescott, as I recall."

Artie suddenly felt like his head was spinning. How could that be? Then he realised that the robbery must have happened after Prescott escaped from the Federal Prison in Washington. But blond? That sounded odd.

"Gabriel Prescott?" he echoed. "Are you sure?"

"That's what he said his name was. I was glad to see the back of him. He concealed some sort of explosive on his person and used it to blow the lock of his cell door off."

"Artie blinked at that. It sounded like something he or Jim might have used. Had Loveless supplied it, he wondered?

"Well, thanks for the information," he said.

"My pleasure," the sheriff replied, anxious for the agent to leave.

As he walked back to his horse Artie realised that he would have to go and visit Prescott in the state penitentiary where Dickerson had said he was. There was no way that Artie was going to leave someone out there who looked like James West. One day he would be a free man, walking about with Jim's face. No, Artie would definitely have to do something about that. He didn't know what, just something. Instead of getting on his horse he walked to the telegraph office. He needed to contact Colonel Richmond.

 _Colorado State Penitentiary_

With his credentials Artie had no trouble gaining access to the Governor of the state penitentiary and especially since Colorado had been one of the places Artie had tried out his truth drugs on the condemned prisoners. That didn't guarantee that the man would believe what Artie had to tell him about imposters and mind programming and besides the things that Loveless had done had never been made known to the public. So Artie had to find some reason why he wanted to question Prescott. The truth drug gave him an opening and he was aided in this by the Governor himself.

"Well, Mr Gordon," the Governor greeted him. "Are you here for more of your drug testing?"

"As a matter of fact I am," Artie replied. "But this time it's not condemned prisoners I'm interested in."

"Oh?"

"We have a problem, ah hem, it's a bit embarrassing," Artie said, trying to sound a trifle embarrassed. "The Federal Bureau of Prisons has discovered that they have two prisoners on record with the same name."

"Well, that's not unusual," the Governor replied, sounding a little bemused.

"Except that all of their other personal details are identical too, even down to their physical description."

"That is unusual," the Governor conceded.

"You can see their dilemma. One of these rogues may very well be hiding his true identity to avoid prosecution for even worse crimes."

"I understand; you need to smoke him out."

"Precisely, and to that end I wish to question one of your inmates, a Gabriel Prescott."

"Ah, a trouble-maker that one, he's only just been released from solitary confinement. If ever there's a fight you'll find him in the middle of it. Not that there is any trouble here with fighting you understand," the Governor explained hastily, realising he was talking to someone who was reporting to the Federal Bureau of Prisons.

"Oh I quite understand," Artie reassured him. "What can you expect when you have such ruffians in close proximity to each other?"

"Quite," the Governor agreed. "Now, about Prescott I presume you wish to administer your drug to him?"

"Yes, if that would be all right."

"Of course, I can make some room in the infirmary available to you again."

"That will be perfect."

"I'll get one of the guards to escort you and Prescott will be brought to you there."

"Many thanks and good-day, Governor."

"Good-bye, Mr Gordon.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _The Infirmary – Colorado State Penitentiary_

Prescott was brought into the infirmary in shackles and pushed down onto a bed in one corner of the ward where he sat complaining about being brought to the infirmary when there was nothing wrong with him.

Artie remained standing so that he would have the height advantage over the man he was about to interrogate.

But something happened when the man suddenly looked straight up at him. The last time Artie had seen James West it was his dead body and since then he had suffered through his funeral. He was not prepared to see a living version of him and it rocked him to his core. The blond hair was gone by now, the dye having worn off and the haircut was prison regulation but it was still Jim's face.

Prescott's began to look worried.

"Hey, mister, are you all right?" he asked.

Artie pulled himself together. "Don't you recognise me?" he said.

"Should I?" the man asked.

"My name is Artemus Gordon. I'm a Special Agent with the Treasury Department. I take it you don't remember your time on the Wanderer and in the Federal Prison?"

"The Wanderer, what's that? I don't know what you're talking about but if you're trying to pin some crime or other on me….."

"No," Artie interrupted him and then wondered how to proceed. It appeared that Prescott had reverted to his true identity and had lost all memory of the imposture he had carried out. However, he just might have some information on where Loveless was.

"Have you been in contact with Doctor Loveless recently," he asked.

"Well, in case they didn't tell you, I've been in here more than a month," Prescott said.

"What about before that?" Artie persisted.

"I don't want to talk about that squirt," Prescott said. "It's his fault I'm in here and he's done nothing to help me. He didn't even show up for my trial let alone pay for a lawyer."

It was amazing to Artie that, even though he had reverted to his own personality, Prescott was still using James West's voice. Then suddenly something the other man had said penetrated Artie's brain.

"Did you say you'd been in here over a month?"

"Yeah, and I was arrested three days before that."

"But Prescott escaped on….you can't be…Prescott…"

"Well I am Pres….Hey, Mr Gordon, you look awful funny. Do you want me to call the guard?"

Artie sat down with a thud onto the bed next to Prescott.

"Jim?" he said.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

To be continued


	9. Chapter 9

**The Night the Truth was Revealed**

Chapter 9

 **There is nothing so strong or safe in an emergency of life as the simple truth.**

(Charles Dickens)

 _The Infirmary – Colorado State Penitentiary_

Artie shook his head to try and clear it. He must be mistaken but….

"Who's Jim?" Prescott asked, cutting across his thoughts. "You know you're behaving mighty peculiar for a Government man."

Artie couldn't help himself. He turned and grabbed the man by his shoulders and scrutinised his features.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

Artie let him go of him and stood up. He'd been fooled before. This time he had to make sure he was right. He called for an orderly and then began searching through his pockets for the syringe and the bottle of truth drug, almost dropping it on the floor his hands were shaking so much.

An orderly arrived at his side a moment later and he asked him to prepare Prescott for the drug to be administered to him.

Prescott, realising what was about to happen, tried to get up off the bed but the orderly pushed him back down. He was tall and broad-shouldered and had more than enough strength to subdue an unruly patient; the basic qualification for a prison orderly. Artie placed the bottle and syringe on a side table and helped the orderly to shackle the prisoner's wrists to the bed frame on either side of him. Artie mentally apologised to Jim. If this is you then I'm really sorry to treat you this way, he thought.

"Right, roll up his sleeve and hold his arm still!"

The orderly complied and Artie filled the needle and inserted it into a vein. He had come there prepared to administer the truth drug to Gabriel Prescott in order to find out information about Loveless and his plans, now he was on the brink of finding out something mind-blowing. Could it be that James West was still alive? He hardly dared to hope because he couldn't see how it was possible and he dreaded that he might be mistaken in his time calculations or that the truth might be that Loveless had produced no end of copies of his partner.

The man lying on the bed became still and Artie tested his pupils. His mind went back to when he had injected his partner back on that ill-fated day on the Wanderer. Hopefully this would mark the end of that nightmare. Now all he had to do was ask the all-important question. He hesitated because he couldn't bear the disappointment if he was wrong. He felt his grief might overcome him if this chance was taken away. Eventually he cleared his throat.

"What is your name?" he asked and, with the blood rushing in his ears it took him a moment to take in what the man replied, what James West had said. Artie felt his knees give way and the orderly had to hold him up.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _The Wanderer – Washington DC_

"I just couldn't believe it when I received your telegraph," Colonel Richmond said. Artie could see that even now there were tears in the older man's eyes.

"Imagine how I felt when I heard him say who he was for the first time; they practically had to sedate me," Artie replied with a massive grin. "Thank you, Sir, for arranging for the Presidential pardon to be delivered to the penitentiary so quickly."

"Well, you could hardly just walk out of there with a convicted felon. So far no-one outside of you, me and the President knows about the imposter."

"And Loveless," Artie added.

"Yes, well, we'll catch up with him one day. Where is Jim now?"

Artie looked a little embarrassed. "Well, I was able to let him out of the rolling cell after a couple of days. I'd been bombarding him with information about himself more or less non-stop, the same way I did Prescott, when he thought he was Jim. The programme has been broken sufficiently for me to move him to his own sleeping quarters, though I have been keeping the door locked at night just to be on the safe side. This is James West we're talking about and if he got it in his head to leave the train there wouldn't be much I could do to stop him."

"You don't need to tell me," Richmond said. "The President will be here soon so you'd better make sure he's spruced up to meet him. He will be capable of meeting Grant won't he?"

"Don't worry," Artie assured him. "I'll make sure of it. Now if you'll excuse me….."

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _The Wanderer - James West's Sleeping Quarters_

Artie gave a brief knock on the door and entered to find Jim sitting on his bed, fiddling with the cloth at his neck. "I don't believe I've ever worn one of these before," he complained, throwing it to the floor.

Artie picked it up. "Stand up," he said. Jim did as he was told and Artie set about tying the white cravat around his partner's throat. "You'll soon recall all the little things," Artie assured him. "You've remembered so much already."

Cravat tied Jim leaned over to pick up his evening jacket and shrugged his shoulders into it.

"Have I been very tiresome, Artemus?" he asked.

"Extremely," Artie replied but his smile said it was a lie.

James West sighed. "You know there are loads of things I still don't remember and I know you've been worried. I'm sorry"

"I'm the one who should be saying sorry. Ever since I had the orderly strap you to that bed I've been apologising for the way I've had to treat you."

"And so you should. I hated being cooped up in the holding cell but I wasn't myself and you had no reason to trust me. But locking the door of my quarters, I think that was taking things a bit far."

Artie shook his head. "There was a time not long ago that I thought I'd lost you forever and I'd never see you again. Once I got you back I wasn't taking even the tiniest chance that you would disappear on me again."

"The same old mother hen," Jim said. "Oh how did I know that? I think I remember saying that to you before."

"Yes, and always with the same lack of respect," Artie replied, delighted that his partner's memory was returning more and more as time went on.

"Well, James my boy, we'd better go and meet the President. He's been very worried about you."

"Do you think he'll mind that I don't remember meeting him before, well not since he became President anyway?"

"I don't think he'll care one bit. He's just glad that you're still alive."

Jim grinned and slapped Artie on the back as they left the room.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

 _The Wanderer, Some Weeks Later_

"Well I'm glad they let me out of the asylum," Jim quipped, taking a sip of the excellent coffee Artie had brewed for them.

"That was not an asylum that was a private hospital room and you were only there for twenty-four hours while the doctors assessed your ability to return to work."

"Well, anyway, I'm glad they decided I'm not mad after all."

"Jim, you were never mad you were…."

"All right, Artie, I'll stop teasing you. By the way, I never thanked you properly for finding Blackjack and bringing him safely back to the Wanderer for me."

"I will always be grateful to that horse. After we buried you, or who we thought was you, looking for that fearsome beast was all that kept me sane. It was the only thing of any use that I could do for you and it helped with the grief. I have wondered since then why Loveless let you keep him with you."

"I don't know for certain but I think he liked to see the way I didn't remember my own horse. It was just a joke for him to laugh at and to belittle me."

"I'd really like to get my hands on him."

"I'd like to ask him why he concocted such an elaborate plot," Jim said.

"Well all I know is what Prescott told me after he returned to the Wanderer as you. Dr Loveless told him that he created Janus so that he could impersonate you and have access to the explosives formula we took off him. But it seems that Janus was just a pawn so that once I discovered he was an imposter I wouldn't question the fact that there might be another one. The only thing the Doctor didn't foresee was you setting off his electrics so that he was captured."

"But Prescott thought he was me. There's no way he would have handed over the explosives formula to Loveless."

"I think I know why he did it," Jim said. "He hates me and he wanted to punish me for putting him in prison. And what better way of doing it than by stripping me of my identity, making me into a criminal, never to be thought of as honest again and rotting away in prison for years. And I can tell you that the month I spent in there was almost more than I could bear."

Artie looked at his partner's hands and realised that they were improving and almost back to normal but they had been blistered and rough when he had first been rescued from the penitentiary.

Jim was continuing. "Imagine what a lofty height he had pulled me down from – a man who had been a special agent with the Secret Service, who had worked directly for the President of the United States. Oh yes, Loveless certainly had his revenge on me."

"And on me," Artie said.

"Yes, I'm sorry you had to go through all that, thinking I had died. How did he manage that by the way?"

"We think he must have got Prescott to pretend to be dead. Then he took a photograph of him and held on to it until it was time for his plan to make it look like he'd killed you. Then he sent you to Brinksville to carry out an armed robbery and tipped off the sheriff."

"Antoinette would have been able to fake the bullet wound. She's good at that kind of thing."

"Yes, I heard about the blond hair," Artie said. "I would give anything to have seen it."

Jim had the grace to blush slightly. "I'm ashamed to say that as Gabriel Prescott I thought it made me look quite beautiful, something I would only tell you. Even Loveless told me I looked like an angel."

"I'd love to have heard him rhapsodising over you. But confess it, now you're back to being James West don't you ever think of dying your hair blond? I've known women who swear that 'once a blonde always a blonde'."

"All right you've had your fun," Jim said, "And I do realise that you've been teasing me to take my mind off what Loveless did to me."

"Huh! But the fact that you noticed means it didn't quite work."

"It worked very well and the fact that you did it is what cheers me up the most."

"You'll make me blush if you carry on."

"Will they dig my body up now I'm not dead?" Jim suddenly asked.

"Do you know how ludicrous that sounds?" Artie replied. In fact he was surprised at the sudden change of subject.

"Yes, but will they?"

"I understood that they were going to leave it where it is but just quietly change the name on the headstone."

"Good, I don't want anything else bad to happen to Prescott. I've lived in his skin and don't think he was that bad. By the way, I know how you found him out as an imposter but how did you know Janus was not the real thing?"

"Easy, I mentioned my Aunt Maude to him."

"How is your Aunte Maude, by the way?" Jim asked.

Artie was about to say something and he froze with his mouth wide open.

Jim looked worried. "Artie, are you all right? I didn't think it was that bad a joke. Of course I know your Aunte Maude isn't real."

Artie let out a deep breath.

"Jim DON'T ever joke like that again! That's what Janus said that tipped me off that he was an imposter. I don't think I could go through that again, wondering whether you're James West or not.

"Well I'll let you in on a secret that even Loveless doesn't know," Jim said. "While he was in prison I got close to Antoinette and….."

"Jim, you didn't!"

"Well I didn't know who she was at the time."

"Now I'm absolutely sure you're James West."

"No, I think you'll find I was Gabriel Prescott," Jim said with a wink.

ooooooooooo0ooooooooooo

THE END


End file.
